


rare and sweet as cherry wine

by only_because3



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9250274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: She almost doesn’t believe it. The gentle, careful, rock forward paired with Clarke’s deep breath and nimble fingers around her clit has Lexa’s knuckles slipping in with almost no work on her part. Clarke exhales with a small, pitchy whine that Lexa only rarely hears from her girlfriend and her body pulls Lexa in deeper on its own accord.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [don't wanna be your girl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554059) by [faithtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithtastic/pseuds/faithtastic). 



> Thank you so so much to faithtastic for letting me play in her DWBYG sandbox! Hopefully y'all enjoy!

Hips cant up to follow her retreat, Clarke lifting her foot just enough to give Lexa a gentle nudge in the side, a silent instruction. Lexa’s ring finger slides in easy on the next thrust and she finds herself looking away from where Clarke is parting so easy for her to watch Clarke’s eyes flutter closed. Her cheeks are flushed pink and there's sweat beading at her hairline, evidence that they've been dirtying their bed for a while now. A moan rumbles deep in Clarke’s throat, hips still working to meet Lexa’s fingers and a blissed out smile softening her features. 

Lexa stares, free hand scratching soft lines up and down Clarke’s thigh, as Clarke begins kneading at her breasts, fingers with chipped polish and dried paint stuck in the nail beds twisting and rolling and tugging at dark rosy nipples. Lexa pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, bites when Clarke purposefully presses against the teeth marks Lexa left not too long ago before palming both breasts. A heady groan follows a strong squeeze and Clarke, very simply, demands, “Another.”

Without hesitation, Lexa wedges her pinky in alongside her other fingers. She curls them until her outer fingers rest on the others and Lexa can feel that slight resistance she meets on the first four fingered thrust. Lexa moves her thumb, swirls it around Clarke’s clit, and looks to find that Clarke’s blissed out grin has turned cocky.

“We’ve been here many times before, love,” Lexa reminds her, nearly laughing, nearly rolling her eyes. Her next thrust is smooth, as easy as if she was just fucking Clarke with a single digit. She looks back down at Clarke’s red cunt, momentarily mesmerized by the cum that squirts out every time her fingers are sheathed.

It’s been years but Lexa still can’t believe just how beautifully Clarke responds to her touch.

“So I can’t be proud of it anymore,” Clarke asks cheekily. “That’s like saying I can’t be proud of the fact that I make you squirt nine times out of ten.” Clarke rolls her hips, brings herself down a little harder on Lexa’s fingers and Lexa doesn’t miss how her hooded eyes twinkle with mirth.

Lexa sighs but it comes out much more breathy than intended which makes a laugh rumble in Clarke’s chest. Lexa cuts it short, tucks her thumb into the palm of her hand on the next stroke. Clarke’s breath catches and she sags against the mattress, a puff of air escaping her lungs when Lexa fills her to the knuckles. The muscles in Clarke’s thighs flex, body tensing despite Lexa’s reassuring touches and soft loving murmurs about how beautiful Clarke looks. Clarke takes three slow, measured breaths before she gives Lexa a nod. Slowly, slowly, Lexa rocks her hand from side to side. Clarke licks her lips and even though there’s still a small furrow between Clarke’s eyebrows, she goes pliant around Lexa’s hand once more. Lexa keeps the same steady pace, twisting her wrist a little more with each rock of her hand until Clarke begins chanting, “Fuck,” and her hips try and urge Lexa deeper.

As gently as she possibly can, Lexa begins to thrust. She lets her hand be stopped naturally at the knuckles for a few strokes, until she’s satisfied with how wet Clarke is around her. She slowly starts to curl her fingers towards her palm as she tries to push a little deeper. Clarke’s face contorts, corner of her lip trapped between her teeth but her legs spread a little wider in an effort to help Lexa get the meatiest part of her hand inside. The resistance she meets at Clarke’s entrance lessens but Clarke feels impossibly tight around her fingers, stopping Lexa from curling her fingers completely. Again, Lexa tries to push even deeper, to get her knuckles inside, but Clarke quickly shakes her head. “Lube,” she breathes out.

“Of course,” Lexa says softly She gropes through the messy sheets until she finds the bottle of lube. Lexa pops the top open and squeezes a generous amount onto the hand half inside Clarke, the thick gel pooling on her hand and slipping down the sides. Clarke reaches down without prompting and spreads the lube around all of Lexa’s hand she can reach before coating the excess on her own spread lips. Lexa watches, her own breath coming a little quicker, a little heavier, at the sight of Clarke checking to make sure everything is wet enough. Happy with her work, Clarke trails two fingers up her cunt, runs them along either side of her clit, stroking slowly. “Ready?"

“Mhm.” Clarke brings her fingers closer together, adding pressure to her clit as Lexa rocks her slick hand and pushes.

She almost doesn’t believe it. The gentle, careful, rock forward paired with Clarke’s deep breath and nimble fingers around her clit has Lexa’s knuckles slipping in with almost no work on her part. Clarke exhales with a small, pitchy whine that Lexa only rarely hears from her girlfriend and her body pulls Lexa in deeper on its own accord. Every little movement runs through her hand, each breath Clarke takes resulting in a squeeze and release of her fist. She can feel Clarke’s body trying to make sense of the intrusion; each inhale makes Clarke’s pale chest swell and her body bears down, trying to push Lexa out. But the exhale that follows has Lexa being pulled back in, deeper too than she’d been before. She blinks, eyes wide as Clarke’s body seems to naturally fuck itself on her hand.

She tries to meet Clarke’s eyes only to find they’re shut, corners pinched and wrinkled. Lexa opens her mouth to see if Clarke’s okay but Clarke tenses around her, the most guttural moan Lexa’s ever heard tearing from the blonde’s throat. “Oh my god,” Clarke pants. The words feel almost like a heartbeat around Lexa and she’s amazed at how utterly different it feels from the flutter she feels when it’s just her fingers crooked in Clarke’s cunt.

Looking back down, Lexa realizes that the knob of her wrist is the only thing she can see anymore, the rest seated inside Clarke. A strangled noise rumbles in her throat, literally unable to form any words. Her hand feels so hot,  _ Clarke _ feels so hot, her muscles contracting and relaxing around Lexa without reprieve. The fingers Clarke has around her clit are still twitching a little but Lexa can tell Clarke is hesitantly touching herself now. “Babe,” Clarke pants. Her voice is deeper, rougher than Lexa thinks she's ever heard it. “How mu… I don't think I can take much more.”

“I'm in,” Lexa says softly, leaning forward just enough to rub at the hand Clarke has fisted in the sheets. “But I-”

“You're in?!” Clarke begins to push herself up so that she can see for herself and then promptly stops in her tracks, only getting her shoulders off the bed before there's a sharp intake of breath and a nearly unbearable tightness around Lexa’s fist. “Shit, shit, Jesus.” Lexa is quick to rub at Clarke’s belly, soothing, though she can't stop herself from closing her eyes tight at the feeling of Clarke quite literally dripping around her.

Lexa has to take a deep breath to steady herself. “You feel amazing.” The wonder is clear in her voice and Clarke clenches a little tighter at the words. She tries again to curl her fingers a bit more, not wanting to bump Clarke’s cervix but Clarke growls and attempts to kick Lexa. 

“Don't you dare,” Clarke exhales. “God, I already feel so full, I can't.”

“Okay, okay.” Lexa bends, presses a kiss to the tiny swell of Clarke’s stomach. “Sorry.” 

“Just,” another long exhale as Lexa attempts to twist her wrist into a more comfortable position. “Don't move.” Lexa stills despite the own awkward position of her hand but, truth be told, she's not sure she could move it much more if she wanted to. Clarke has a vice grip around her, cunt pulsing slow and measured on its own and it takes Lexa a few seconds to realize that Clarke is quickly building to an orgasm without Lexa doing anything but being inside her.

It's unnecessary she's sure, but Lexa wets her thumb in her mouth before pressing it to Clarke’s clit. A string of obscenities flow out of Clarke’s mouth when Lexa rubs wide, firm circles on her clit, and Clarke rocks her hips exactly once.

Lexa watches Clarke’s back bow, chest heaving as Clarke damn near howls, cunt choking Lexa’s hand so hard it  _ hurts _ . But she powers through it, the sight of Clarke completely, beautifully, falling apart too captivating to ruin. 

Lexa still doesn't move when Clarke slumps back into the mattress, body relaxing down to her toes, waiting instead for Clarke to find her voice again. “That was  _ fantastic _ .” Lexa laughs, just a little, which makes Clarke giggle too, and then they both pause when the laughing creates a rhythmic pulsing again around Lexa’s hand. Clarke groans and attempts to put her legs together before deciding against it. “Pull out, please?”

It seems to take Lexa longer to pull out than it did to go in, Clarke seemingly regretting the lack of fullness the retreat brings, and as such, fucks herself a little as Lexa goes. Once she's finally out completely, Clarke’s breath escapes her, leaving her a flopped, strung out heap on the sheets, a puddle finally forming beneath her ass now that Lexa’s hand no longer fills her. Clarke, weakly, makes grabby hands for Lexa and, even though she needs to go wash her hand, Lexa climbs up to lay next to her, hand still coated and holding a puddle of Clarke’s cum. “Feel good?”

Clarke hums, nods a little. “Thank you.”

Lexa presses a kiss to Clarke’s breast and cuddles closer.

\--

Clarke winces as she sits down on their bed and Lexa’s cheeks redden just a little at the reminder that she's the one who's made Clarke walk a little funny the past few days. “I really didn't expect to be this sore,” Clarke grumbles, leaning back so that her weight no longer remains on her pelvis. She takes Lexa’s free hand in hers, thumb absentmindedly stroking the skin before pausing. “Have you gotten a new lotion? Your hand is so soft.”

Lexa shakes her head. She feels at her own hand and, perplexed at the softness she finds, rubs at the other to compare. It's a bit rougher, though her hands are always on the softer side, but the hand Clarke was holding is noticeably more smooth. “I don't know wh-” She stops abruptly and she can feel her cheeks growing hotter. It takes only a moment for Clarke to catch up with her and then Clarke is nearly doubled over with laughter.

“Who knew I've been producing the best moisturizer ever?”


End file.
